Ironman Van Helsing
by TapTapAlways
Summary: Ironman Van Helsing - Out to save us all from Valentine's Day... and vampires!
1. In The Night

_This is my Valentine's gift for all of you awesome people out there who just cannot take one more minute of candy hearts, cuteness or_ anything _pink! Here, for all of you - is a lightly Dracula-inspired film-verse Avenger's-story featuring swords, repulsers, slight explosions and last but not least five little girls who totally has Tony Stark wrapped around their tiny little fingers. (And so does their mother...)_

 _This is for Nova, whose fault this story's existance totally is, my friend Anonymous (the same friend who co-planned my Pirates of Caribbean story and added the dog James into "After the Sun Does Down") who also totally encouraged this rabid plotbunny (she only fed_ one _of them, though), and Nova's version of Moriarty, who is just the best thing since we had to start hating Mycroft._

 _No copyright infringement is intended - I am not even sure I know where all these characters are_ coming _from!_

 _TapTap_

The night was dark and silent like only either a Halloween, a Christmas Eve or a Valentine's night could be. There was something decidedly spooky in the cold air, so much so that when Ironman Van Helsing blasted through the air in his suit with all the noise of standing just below a small aircraft when it takes off, it would not have surprised anybody - if they had been there. But they weren't.

There was a suble shift in the darkness as he blared through the otherwise soundless night, and then, as he swiftly roared on, the silence seemed only more silent.

Out there, there was unspeakable foes - human and not _quite_ so human - and while he had flown beyond these particular dark spots of shadow this time, he _was_ coming for them all.


	2. In The Workshop

_So, to the ten or so people who actually found this story (impressive. How did you do that? Is there even a category for this stuff?) here is some more. I appreciate your support._

 _No copyright infringement is intended. To anything._

 _TapTap_

Tony Stark was shallow, easy, very rich, and actually, quite brilliant. All of these things were more or less well-known. That he was slightly crazy, talking to his bots and his AI, was hardly a secret either.

Naturally, what actually was a secret. Was his secret self. Actually, in a way, his secret _selves_. It was many generations ago that the Starks had taken the name Stark, instead of their original one - Van Helsing - and while Tony had grown up unbothered by both the family legacies, after his - sorta - brief stint as a prisoner of war to a terrorist organisation he had emerged as Ironman (not that he had told anybody. That silly organisation S.H.I.E.L.D. had after all offered a perfect cover, and he was clever enough to accept, especially considering how desperate Pepper had been) and decidedly taken on _both_ of the family legacies.

Such the story was, that Tony Stark was the head of R&D of the newly reorganised Stark Industries during the day, the latest Van Helsing at night, and Ironman usually somewhere in between. Or all the time, depending on how you looked at it.

"Tony?" Pepper Potts Stark clicked on the light in the vast workshop located in the cellar of Stark Tower and looked around with a raised eyebrow. Tony invented new things every time she was in here, and changed the layout of the place at _least_ once weekly. She was always immediately lost once she stepped inside, and she came almost every day.

"Pepper!" Tony's voice came out of a corner somewhere, and a second later, so did Tony. Genius as he was, the man had picked up that his wife found his favourite workspace confusing very easily, and he usually made a point to come greet her whenever she came down here. She liked that about him - for all his brash exteriour and his silly sense of humour, when he cared, he really did care. And like everything about him, he did so unapologetically, fully, and with every cell in that brilliant head of his.

"Hello," Pepper smiled at her husband fondly, as he casually wiped what she hoped was oil away from his hands on what looked like an old rag, but probably was something she would have once winced at seeing used that way, "you're late. We have a dinner in fourty minutes." Tony grimaced. "Snap. Well, I'll be up in a minute. I am just finishing up the Mark 17."

"Snap?" Virginia smirked, ignoring the glare Tony playfully sent her as he disappeared back into the maze of his workshop. She could spot, just from her position, one generator, three expensive cars, and endless rows of high metal bookcases (for lack of a better title) containing spare parts and huge projects she couldn't quite name. And a sword. She pretended like she didn't blink in surprise upon noticing that one. Tony's dirty mouth had become almost that of a prude since their first child was born. With a snicker, Pepper went back upstairs, into the light, and to find the rest of her large family.


	3. In The Place Where Love Lives

_More Ironman Van Helsing. Yay!_

 _No copyright infringement is intended. Promise._

 _TapTap_

Tony Stark was never, ever, ever, late when picking up his children. The five daughters of Pepper Potts-Stark and Tony Stark-Potts were more precious even to the man than his bots (and _that_ was saying something) or his many inventions, and he did not even care that he was surrounded by _vampires_ of all things - he was not about to be late now, either.

True to form, Tony Stark was not deterred by anything so petty as an enemy - be they massive vampire bats (so to speak) or a terrorist organisation - and with a mighty blast from the repulsors, Ironman Van Helsing rose beyond the group he had been fighting in his suit, instead bringing down the fury of the Van Helsing legacy upon them from the air. Most weapons were not very useful against vampires, and most weapons manufacturers would so struggle to design something to use upon them... but Tony Stark was not "most" in _any_ category, least of all as a weapons manufacturer. He might have abandoned that field years ago - before any of the girls were born, in fact - but that did in no way mean that he was not still the _best_. He was.

With a final blast of blue light from his suit, Tony rose up higher, not flying in the spirals of a hunter like he had for most of the night, but instead in a quick, straight line, picking up speed. He was going to pick up his girls, after all.

It was barely an hour later, that Tony Stark had put aside both his alter egos for the night, instead picking up a title far more close to heart: father. As he walked between the beds in the cathedral-like bedroom of his two next-oldest girls, (they were already growing up so fast, a part of his heart was already whispering, even if they were only six and seven) kissing them both at the top of their heads - one blond and one raven - and assuring them (though they already knew, beyond a doubt) how much he loved them and would always be there for them, it would have never occured to him to miss the life he once lead, the one he could have still, theoretically, lead.

Peeking in on his and Virginia's oldest, smiling and returning the gesture without hesitation as she blew him a kiss before returning to her book (Narnia, he noted fondly, was seemingly the nine-year-old's flavour of the week) Tony then spend a few precious moments with the sleeping baby, before finally heading into the last room, sprawling across the bed of the just-barely-four-year-old girl who begged him for a story.

Her father obliged her without even a token protest and when the four little girls' mother got back home after a successful day of running the family business, he found all her little darlings deep asleep, and their father just as innocently resting (even though _he_ was nothing of the sort), still in the bed of their second-youngest, and with her blond head of curly hair resting on his arm. Virginia had never loved him more. Life was _perfect_.

The End.


End file.
